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“Want to grab that table by the pool table?” I asked as we headed inside the brewery.
“Next to the billiards? I’d really rather not,” Mom said, scanning the inside of the brewery like she was an inspector. “That one in the corner will do.”
She clicked her heels over toward a corner booth. She grabbed a napkin and brushed off the seats and the table even though they were already spotless. She sat down, letting out a sigh and glancing around as she waited for service. Natasha sat in the inner corner of the booth, and I scooted in on the other side.
Rush came around a moment later, looking sleek in a black collared shirt.
“I see Sawyer has some special company tonight,” Rush said with a courteous smile.
“Rush, I’d like to introduce you to my mother and her colleague Natasha,” I said. “This is Rush, the owner of Jade Brewery.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” my mother said, holding out her hand to give Rush a handshake. “Is that a Chopard watch? My goodness, I’m impressed.”
“It’s one of my favorites,” Rush said.
Knowing my mother, seeing that expensive watch on Rush’s wrist was probably like finding a lighthouse in the darkest depths of hell. She didn’t like small towns or cozy, cabin-style breweries like this, no matter how nice they were. But Rush had been a high-powered businessman before he’d inherited this bar from his father and fallen in love with Shawn, right here in small-town Jade River.
My mom had a radar for that kind of thing. The moment she’d seen that nice watch, she’d probably deemed Rush, and the brewery, “worthy.”
Even though Rush was the owner and already had plenty of money before inheriting Jade Brewery, he loved this place like it was his child. He took care of it, and always helped out with smaller tasks. I wasn’t surprised when he’d noticed I had guests and taken it on himself to be our waiter.
He took Mom’s and Natasha’s drink orders before heading back off toward the bar.
“Remember, extra dry!” my mother called out after him, and he turned to give her a little salute.
“You can be a bit nicer about it,” I muttered.
“I’m plenty nice,” she protested. “I’m just particular.”
For the next few minutes, she dumped stories on me rapidfire, like she was in a therapy session. Natasha was kind and polite in the corner of the booth, while Mom complained about her accountant, her hairstylist, one of her neighbors that was “way too old” and another neighbor that was “a bit too young.”
I needed some fucking relief. I stole a glance over at the bar and saw that Harlan was behind it, pulling the tap on a fresh wheat beer for me while Jax made cocktails beside him. I’d forgotten all about the damn wheat beer. Harlan gathered all of the drinks on a tray when they were done, and headed over toward our table.
“Here we are,” he said, setting them all down.
“Thank you,” I told Harlan.
“Hope you enjoy that wheat beer after all,” he told me, giving me a little nod as he turned to walk off.
“Thanks. Love you,” I said without thinking as he walked away.
My face was burning the moment the words had left my mouth.
My mother’s eyes were like two lasers pointed at me. “Did you just say love you to him?”
I glared at her. “Mom, you’ve met Harlan many times. You know he’s my best friend.”
“Yes, but grown men don’t exactly say that to one another very often, and especially not for a drink at a bar.”
I rubbed at my temples. “Actually, friends say that to each other all of the time, and it doesn’t have to be weird.”
I was trying my damndest to act like it had been a normal thing, even though the words felt charged now with Harlan.
After one sip of her cocktail, Mom shook her head.
“No,” she immediately said. “This won’t do. I knew I should have asked Rush to make the drink personally. I’m going to go ask for a different vodka. Excuse me, Natasha. And Sawyer.”
She was up in an instant, clicking off toward the bar across the room.
I let out a slow breath of air, making eye contact with Natasha now that we were left in the booth alone.
“She is definitely going to ask for that drink to be remade at least three or four times, while watching Rush like a hawk as he makes it,” I said. “Even though I guarantee you there is nothing wrong with it.”
Natasha gave me a sly smile. “My drink is amazing,” she said, taking another sip. “I think there’s a little bit of lavender in it, maybe?”
“There absolutely is,” I said. “I actually helped craft the idea for that cocktail a couple of months ago. Lavender, lemon, a little bit of elderflower, and some gin.”
